


control doesn't come without a steep price to pay

by VALDS



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Angst, Anorexia, Bulimia, Eating Disorders, Fainting, Heavy Angst, Love, M/M, Negative Self Talk, Neil is depressed, Sad, Self-Harm, Soft Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard, Suffering, Trigger Warning - Eating Disorders, andrew loves neil, author is sorry and gay, did i tag everything?, do not read if u r triggered by tags!!!, i have tried uploading this twice, i love them, i love u neil im sorry bby, me too neil, mega angst, neil is big sad, neil is not ok, neil loves andre, rip neil im sorry, theyre so soft and supportive, tw, vent fic, w - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-02
Updated: 2019-02-02
Packaged: 2019-10-20 21:07:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17629703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VALDS/pseuds/VALDS
Summary: Up until this year with the Foxes, running had been Neil’s control. He would never let himself get close to anyone or enjoy something too much even after his mom was out of the picture, it was his own way of reminding him who he was and where he came from. Then, he met Andrew and the rest of his team and came to grow attached to them. He made promises, ones that were important and expected of him to keep. So, he devised a new plan to get his control back.*  *  *Please read!! the!! tags!! ily and i dont want u to get triggered n sad >:(((





	control doesn't come without a steep price to pay

**Author's Note:**

> ** pls read!!!
> 
> hey, this is my first work on ao3!! ive been reading sad gay shit on here since forever, but this is the only fic ive ever really finished, and ofc its sad. this is kinda a vent fic, but it anything in the tags triggers you please click off! your mental health is important and will always be. ive been struggling with an eating disorder for a while now, and writing helps so i wrote this. this is only edited by grammarly and probably sucks but thats ok bc i just want to post it, even if it doesnt get attention. 
> 
> hotlines:  
> Crisis Textline: Text CONNECT to 741741  
> National Eating Disorders Association Helpline: 1-800-931-2237  
> Something Fishy: 1-866-418-1207  
> National Association of Anorexia Nervosa and Associated Disorders: 1-630-577-1330  
> Overeaters Anonymous: 1-505-891-2664  
> S.A.F.E. (Self Abuse Finally Ends) 1-800-DONT-CUT  
> Suicide Hotline 1-800-SUICIDE (784-2433)  
> 1-800-273-TALK (8255)  
> Suicide Prevention Hotline 1-800-827-7571  
> Deaf Hotline 1-800-799-4TTY  
> Holy Spirit Teenline (717) 763-2345 or 1-800-722-5385  
> Crisis Intervention (Harrisburg) (717) 232-7511 or 1- 888- 596-4447  
> Carlisle Helpline (717) 249-6226  
> Crisis Intervention (York) (717) 851-5320 or 1-800-673-2496

Up until this year with the Foxes, running had been Neil’s control. He would never let himself get close to anyone or enjoy something too much even after his mom was out of the picture, it was his own way of reminding him who he was and where he came from. Then, he met Andrew and the rest of his team and came to grow attached to them. Then he made promises, ones that were important and expected of him to keep. So, he devised a new plan to get his control back.  


At first, it was an accident, he hadn’t eaten anything since a granola bar at breakfast and it was now dinner time. He clung to the hunger pangs as a way to remind himself he’d never been good enough after that, to remind himself that he’d always be fucked up. Andrew was too caught up in his own issues - understandably so - to notice the change in his diet. It felt like he was able to breathe easier once he started, and now it was almost impossible to stop. Once Neil started, became something that he couldn’t give up. It was an addiction. He would take black coffee to practice in the mornings, pour himself another cup for lunch, and then eat some with Andrew or his teammates at the end of the day. Sometimes he went to bed before that, falling into a fitful sleep filled with flashbacks and lighters burning away his skin, filling his nose with the vile smell of burning human skin. On those nights he would wake up around three in the morning and go for a run, just to distract his mind.  


The caffeine he drank kept him stimulated and on edge, his body too shakey to realize that it was starving. When he noticed that he could see his bones more prominently the feeling of sick satisfaction was overwhelming. He felt like he was making progress, like he was doing what was best for him. It had been a week and a half and he had already accomplished so much, how could this possibly be wrong? How could it be harmful? He was just controlling himself. The angry, hateful voice in his head had finally relinquished its hold on him, it was now congratulating him for getting what he deserved.  


Then they went to Eden’s Twilight and Andrew ordered for him because he went to the bathroom. He had ordered him a large cheeseburger and fries, and didn’t have enough will power to decline. He decided that he could eat a little bit, he’s been so good, so he at least deserved something. The voice that had been telling him he was doing good violently disagreed.  


When Neil got his food and didn’t touch it when everyone was digging in, Andrew shot him a confused glance. He knew that if he didn’t eat Andrew would be worried. The burger was buttered and toasted, dripping in grease and sauce and calories. It made him cringe. He chewed it slowly, the crappy burger tasted like heaven to his starving body. Before he could even register what he was doing, he had eaten half of the burger, and then three quarters, and then he was done. He didn’t stop there. He ate all of his fries and gulped down the lemonade Andrew had ordered him with his meal.  


The shame and guilt he felt was immediate, he was panicked and riddled with self-hate, it was a terrible feeling that he was not expecting. He had started this just two and a half weeks ago, and he was already in so deep. He had lost five pounds quickly, but this meal made him feel like he just gained it all back. His mind kept on reminding him that he was a fat pig, that he didn’t deserve the food. He wasn’t worth it.  


Then he started thinking about how he could undo this, how he could make this better, and it hit him. He remembered health class and how he learned about some people made themselves throw up. He was anxious to go through with it, but he decided it was better than sitting with all of this greasy food rolling around in his stomach, a weapon. No one was concerned when he excused himself to go to the bathroom, no one would expect it or even think of it from Neil. Neil was fine.  


Neil was fine when he stuck two fingers down his throat and threw up some of his food and then continued until he erased all of his mistakes. He was fine when he washed his hands until his eyes were no longer bloodshot in the single stall restroom. He was fine when he walked out of the bathroom with his sleeves covering up his now red and irritated knuckles. He was fine when he went home with Andrew feeling completely empty and numb, tiredness fogging his ability to think well or his motor skills. Andrew just thought that he had too much to drink, but Neil knew better.  


Now, at least three times a week Neil was hunched over a toilet in some restaurant that his friends had picked, erasing as much food from his system as he could. He didn’t deserve food. Food was for important people, food was for those who were not broken pieces of garbage like Andrew. Neil hated himself almost as much as he hated his late father, which was a feat all on its own.  


After a month Neil was borderline suicidal, not eating for a day and then eating a large meal and throwing it up, not eating for the day after that and then throwing up the day after that. He was always cold and his fingers were turning blue, it was a wonder he hadn’t passed out or been caught yet, but sometimes his teammates looked at him like he was some broken kid who deserved their pity. Neil didn’t think he deserved anything.  


Neil cried himself to sleep more nights then he didn’t, crying either because he was so, so fucking hungry or because he had done anything even remotely bad that day. He dug his nails into his wrists when he was anxious or hungry now, drawing blood and getting skin under his nails. His clothing was falling off of him now, he had to wear a belt everywhere and resigned himself to oversized hoodies and sweatshirts. Nicky complained that his attire was too boring more and more now, but Neil couldn’t see the concern clouding his dark brown eyes. His teammates were trying to figure out why there were so many scabs on his knuckles and his wrists, and why sometimes when he came out of the bathroom his eyes were bloodshot and his cheeks were puffy. He was shivering when his teammates were sweating, not doing as well in practice as he used to either.  


One day Kevin was yelling at him, asking him why he was doing so bad and missing so many shots, and Neil was overwhelmed. His vision had been swimming during all of the practice and his limbs felt so much heavier, which was odd since he knew that he was very light. He was weak and empty, his brain only processing that he did something wrong.

His brain only processed that he failed, that he was disgusting and worthless.  
Kevin was concerned when Neil didn’t respond and just changed out and left. Neil was looking unhealthier by the day, but he had just assumed it was because practices were getting more intense lately.  


When Neil got to his dorm he locked himself in the bathroom with a blade, drawing lines on his skins and sobbing uncontrollably. He felt so much self-hatred that he almost couldn’t feel anything else, it was a miracle he had the mind to stop and clean himself and the mess he’d made up before the others got home. He bandaged his wrists and threw away the blade, collecting himself. Andrew asked him about it when he came back, but Neil had gotten better at lying since he started spiraling, so Andrew didn’t push.  


Their relationship hadn’t changed much in the past few months, they made out and were there for one another, but now it was mostly just Neil being there for Andrew. They hadn’t made much more physical progress, which Andrew noticed was more because of his partner now. Andrew had become more comfortable with touches, but as he got better, Neil became more distanced, in a detached, there-but-not-there way. He recognized that something was happening, but he just didn’t know exactly what. He wouldn’t push it if Neil didn’t want to talk about it anyways, it had to be really personal for him to have not had said something. Neil was unaware that Andrew had realized any of this, so he just continued being a shell of who he was, his insides as empty as he felt. As he went on, days seemed to go by quicker and his body seemed to be giving up more every day. He was having muscle spasms throughout the night, his brain was constantly foggy, and his voice had now developed a raspy quality that his teammates had just assumed was allergies. But, this was much more than allergies.  


In the next few days, he was breaking down more and becoming more irritable. Half of the time he had to ask for directions to be repeated or was uncharacteristically slow, which was something that, once again, Kevin noticed. Kevin was mean, but he was also concerned for his teammate - his friend.  


Kevin just wanted Neil to get himself together, and sometimes he was a little harsh when he was trying to convey that. But it was fine, Neil was tough, he had an attitude problem and thick skin, or at least he used to. Neil was now falling apart, but he couldn’t admit it. He wouldn’t give up his control when he finally had it back again, he saw no reason to. He deserved this, after all. That’s what he kept telling himself, so that’s the only truth that he believed. He was worthless and disgusting, greedy and useless.  


Then Neil broke. Earlier, he was making out with Andrew when his hands wandered to the hem of his now very oversized sweatshirt. They were into it, but that killed the mood instantly. Neil said no so fast and panicked that Andrew knew that something was wrong. He had seen Neil shirtless many times before, so why had this changed in just a month? Neil ran after this, he left and he did what he did best. He came back for practice, but he was late and so weak that he could barely hold his racquet up. Kevin was yelling at him, and his throat was now closing in on itself.  


He hadn’t eaten since an apple he had yesterday, and it was affecting him much more than usual. He was suffocating and spaced out, stuffed to the brim with panic and self-loathing. Kevin realized this only when Andrew cut him off, trying to get to Neil before he collapsed, but he was too late. All Neil remembered was feeling like he was floating, which was why he was so confused when his deteriorating body hit the floor. The last thing he saw was Andrew’s panic-stricken face and his beautiful hazel eyes looking so sad.  


Then he woke up. Coach Wymack was hovering over him and yelling something that his brain couldn’t process, and then Andrew was yelling back and all Neil wanted to do was to go back to sleep. Renee realized I was awake and was at my side immediately, her eyes bloodshot and teary. That was when he really woke back up, and when he realized that he wasn’t in his gear and his shirt was lifted up just far enough to see his scarily-sharp rips and his concave stomach.  
“What have you been doing to yourself?” Renee asked, holding onto Neil’s scab covered arm.  
“M’fine,” he said, pushing Renee’s hand off of him. It took so much effort to sit up and adjust to his surroundings, but he eventually got there.  
“When was the last time you ate?” Andrew asked, his foggy brain barely processing the question.  
“I dunno,” he said, which he thought was vague and would be an unconcerned answer in his haze, but Andrew’s eyes widened and he showed more emotion than he had since Neil had been kidnapped by his dad and Lola. Andrew looked at him for a moment, unable to say much.  
“Why?” Neil immediately knew that he was in deep shit. He fumbled for an answer, but he knew that any excuses wouldn’t fly. Even if they did, the team would be much more aware of what he was eating in the days ahead. Even so, he didn’t quite know how to stop what he had started. He didn’t know how to relinquish the idea that he was too worthless to need food. He didn’t know how to fix himself, but it didn’t mean that he wasn’t tired of this now. He always knew the error in his ways, but now he was confronted with it, staring it dead in the eyes. So, for once in his life, he answered truthfully.  


“I don’t deserve it. I lost control,” what Neil said sounded slurred and soft, but the words were clear. Andrew clung onto Neil like he was about to die, which for all they both knew, he could. He has done so much damage to his body that it would be easy to see him dying here on the court floor from organ failure. The idea didn’t bother him as much as he thought it would.  


“You’re amazing,” the words Andrew whispered were kind and scared, afraid that Neil wouldn’t be able to comprehend it, something that Neil had said to him a while back as well. It was rare for him to really show any complete emotion, but right now there was no way he couldn’t. Neil didn’t realize he was crying until he realized that Andrew’s shoulder was now soaked thoroughly.

Recovery was hard, and it required Andrew to be closer to Neil than he ever had been before, but neither of them minded it as much. Often, they shared a bed and fell asleep touching (because they weren’t quite used to holding each other yet) in one way or another. Andrew cooked for Neil and paid for his food, but he also reminded Neil of how he was worth it every day. Andrew never wanted Neil to suffer so badly again, he wanted his boy to be happy, even if it meant being vulnerable and open. He cried a lot, but Andrew was always there to hold him and comfort him as much as he could. Some days he felt so empty that he could only leave his room for half a practice and when someone (Andrew) forced him to eat each meal and snack, but it was better than going to classes being so miserable.  


Neil also didn’t realize how much gaining weight would affect him. It didn’t start with him wanting to be thinner, but somehow it had gotten there. He slowly weaned himself off of his hoodies and sweat pants, but he was still self-conscious. It was only a fifty percent chance that he said yes to Andrew putting his handing under Neil’s shirt, but he rolled with it.  


Andrew knew that this would be tough, for him and for Neil, and he was prepared to be there for him even when Neil didn’t understand why Andrew even put up with his mentally unstable ass, but Andrew didn’t exactly either. He just knew that he cared about Neil more than he had ever cared about anybody before and that he would put with whatever bullshit that happened throughout the healing process.  


When Neil started having more good than bad days, Andrew was so proud. He felt fulfilled in an odd way, just being happy from helping this person that he barely knew just a year ago. Sometimes that scared Andrew, but other times he felt as if they were always meant to be like this. They supported each other through everything. Even if they both had mountains of issues they needed to sort through, they were willing to do it together. That realization made Neil feel warm and happy, so he kissed Andrew who was sitting next to him like he was a treasure. Andrew almost cried.  


The team also took care of Neil too, making sure that he was okay and giving him his distance if he needed it. They were supportive and scared, but most of all, they were accepting. No one protested when Neil left practice early and looked like he needed to cry, but they also left him with baked goods and kind notes (except for Kevin, who just wrote passive aggressive get well cards).  


Three months after Neil fainted, he was having many more good days than ever before. He still thought about food frequently, but he was no longer as fixated on it and only viewed it as fuel to make his body run. He enjoyed food, but it was no longer on his mind or a method of controlling himself anymore. He didn’t feel the need to control himself anymore, not when he had been in control all along. He was more at peace with himself than he ever was, with Riko and his family out of the picture and all there was to focus on was Exy and Andrew. He knew that he would never completely be okay, but he was okay with that. He knew it was fine to be imperfect, and that he wasn’t worthless because of it. If having issues meant that you were worthless, then everyone would be. He stopped thinking about himself as someone to had to fit an ideal.  


After half a year he was happy and eating the amount he had before his eating disorder started (they weren’t afraid to say the words anymore), loving Andrew and his playing improving with each week. He had and will always have some bad days and bumps in the road, but he made another promise, and that was that he wouldn’t try and hurt himself again because it hurt everyone around him. He wanted to be better for the people who cared for him.  


Neil wanted to be better for himself, for his future with Andrew and for his career in Exy. He knew that better did not mean losing weight or being in control. He now defined it as being happy and doing things that would help him. He learned to love himself at least half as much as Andrew and his friends loved him, which was something he never thought he’d be able to do half a year ago, and to him, that was being better and making progress.


End file.
